


Small Romantic Gestures

by Writeonthrough (Schroederplayspiano)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Cuddles, Dancing, F/M, Fluff, Kisses, Post 3x22, The Seychelles, Vacation, beach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-19 11:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7359610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schroederplayspiano/pseuds/Writeonthrough
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I hadn’t properly thanked you for your big romantic gesture so I’d thought I’d start doing small romantic gestures of my own.” </p><p>A collection of small romantic Fitzsimmons moments during their vacation in the Seychelles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Waves along the Seychelles shore awakened Jemma from her slumber. As she blinked in her surroundings, she remembered their hotel room; white bedspread with light blue embroidering and soft, faint, white sheer curtains that billowed in the soft breeze—her gaze landed on a vase of white daises on the night stand.

“Oh, Fitz,” Jemma greeted him good morning. “They’re beautiful.”

The rustling of sheets informed Jemma of Fitz’s movement. She found she couldn’t turn back to watch him, not daring to tear her gaze away from the flowers at her bedside. Instead, she felt his hand run across her bare back and over her shoulder to bring their bodies closer together.

He kissed her neck. “Well, I hadn’t properly thanked you for your big romantic gesture so I’d thought I’d start doing small romantic gestures of my own.”

“Hmm…” Jemma leaned into him. “I think you started last night.”

“Oh?” Fitz played innocent. “Did I?” He returned to kissing her neck, capturing an earlobe with his lips before kissing his way down Jemma’s cheek.

Jemma moaned in pleasure, trying to stop her mind from churning in thought.”Wait,” she pushed him back. “You got me flowers? These are from you?”

Fitz froze on top of her. “Is there another man in your life I don’t know about?”

Ignoring his insinuation, Jemma pushed herself up and leaned in to smell the flowers. “I thought the hotel left the flowers for us!”

Fitz watched the excitement light her face. He leaned back into a pillow and let his fingers brush the small of her bare back. His mesmerized gaze drifted to the brown waves in her hair, noting (not for the first time) that her hair was considerably more curly when she woke up in the morning.

Jemma turned back to him, her excitement still glowing on her face. “When did you have time to get me flowers? I don’t remember ever being apart yesterday.”

“Hey,” he tucked a hair strand behind her ear. “You’re not the only who can plan a romantic surprise.”

“Apparently.” The couple stared at each other for a moment, Jemma grinning from ear to ear before leaning in for a kiss. She pulled back quickly. “Fitz! Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome.” He began to stroke her arm. “You know, to be honest, I didn’t know if you were a flowers type of girl.”

“I didn’t know if I was either. Nobody’s gotten me flowers before.” She turned back to the daises. “I love them though.”

“Good.” Fitz curved his body around Jemma and stretched his neck to capture her lips. “I’m glad we could discover that together.”


	2. Chapter 2

“I didn’t expect these flowers to have such a strong fragrance.” Absentmindedly, Jemma raised her free hand to the flower crown on her head. She gave Fitz’s hand a squeeze of excitement with her other hand. “I mean, even now—an hour later, their tropical smell still fills my senses.”

Fitz peered down at their interlaced hands, noting the tiny waves on the beach beneath them, and then returned his focus back to Jemma. “You smell wonderful, Jemma.”

Speechless, all she could do was offer a warm smile in thanks. Her toes sunk deep into the sand with each step, the ocean’s water refreshing each time it encircled her ankles. “So…are you going to share with me the inspiration behind surprising me with a crown of beautiful flowers?”

Fitz inhaled audibly. “I noticed you checking them out yesterday,” he confessed. “In the booths we passed.”

Jemma scoffed, used her hips to give him a small shove away from her—their interlaced hands still connecting them and tugging him back to her, and added, “You did not.”

Fitz chuckled. “Yes I did! Your gaze lingered on all the booths with flowers in them and your head turned whenever someone passed with flowers in their hair.”

“Ugh, Fitz! That was just a conditioned reflex.” Jemma shook her head at him. “You know I couldn’t help checking them out—obviously it was an automatic response established by training to an ordinarily neutral stimulus—all tropical flowers are bright and the human eye can’t help but be attracted to them.”

“Uh-huh.” Fitz nodded along, unamused. “It had nothing to do with the joy on your face when I surprised you with them.”

Jemma’s lips parted and soon closed as her retort died in her throat. Fitz stopped and stared at the exasperated look at her face while Jemma did everything she could to rid herself of it.

“You know, Jemma…” Fitz trailed off in thought, wondering how he could word what he wanted to tell her the right way. “I don’t want to feel like you ever have to hid what you want from me.”

“I don’t.” The words came out of Jemma before she thought of them. “And besides—I don’t think I have to—with you noticing everything I lay my eyes on—”

“It’s a conditioned relax,” Fitz defended himself.

Jemma shoved him with her hips again. An amused laugh escaped both of them. As their joined hands returned themselves to each other, Jemma continued, “I wish I could bottle these flowers up and save them so I could smell like this every day.” Fitz was about to speak when Jemma interrupted him. “Hey—I bet we could figure out to do it! We could find a way to preserve these flowers and bring them and their fragrance home with us.”

“We don’t have to.” Fitz said seriously, stopping again and tugging her back to face him. “You really don’t know how wonderful you smell every single second of every single day?”

“Surely not every single second?” Jemma rolled her eyes at him. When her gaze steadied, she couldn’t help clarifying. “I know how bad I smelled when you rescued me from that stupid planet.”

“Are you kidding me?” Fitz mixed his seriousness with his incredulousness. “I had never smelled anything as wonderful in my entire life.”

Jemma dropped her shoulders, stepped back, and tilted her hand. The couple stared at each other for a moment—Fitz’s vulnerability clear in his blue eyes, before Jemma reached back to her flower crown and plucked the biggest flower from it to tuck behind Fitz’s ear.

“Me too, Fitz.” Jemma leaned in for a kiss. Her lips lingered on his as she whispered again, “Me too.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Tonight is perfect.” Jemma leaned back against Fitz’s chest as they sat together on a beach lounge chair. “Perfect temperature. Perfect food. Perfect lanterns on the beach. Perfect music. Perfect guy.”

“Huh. What a relief.” Fitz bowed his nose to Jemma’s neck. “I was going to say something if I didn’t make it on the list somewhere.”

“Ha. Ha.” She elbowed his ribs. “You’re so funny.”

Fitz kissed her shoulder’s bare skin.

Jemma snuggled further against him, pulling his arms around her, and losing herself in the laps of the waves in front of them. “Nothing would be perfect here without you. I don’t want to anywhere without you.”

Fitz’s breath caught. Once he recovered it, he extended his chin forward, catching Jemma’s attention to look back at her. “I feel the same way.”

“Yeah?” Jemma’s enthusiasm brightened her face in the moonlight.

“Yeah,” he replied simply.

The couple held each other’s gazes for a moment; letting the paradise around them disappear. Chatter of tourists, crashing of waves, volume of music, all seemed to lower as Fitz and Jemma looked at each other.

Jemma tucked her chin, nodding a little before leaning in for a kiss. Fitz met her halfway, capturing her lips with his. Fitz wrapped his body around Jemma’s, bringing a palm to caress the softness of her check. Jemma, meanwhile, rested her arms around his neck and let her thumb stroke the short hairs on the back of his neck.

When Fitz dipped further into her to deepen their kiss, Jemma responded with enthusiasm, bringing her hands around his face to his cheeks. She let out a moan when she felt his hands brush through her hand.

“Mmm,” came out of Jemma as they parted. Her eyes opened slowly, drinking the sight of Fitz in beside her. “I can’t believe we missed out on ten years of that.”

Fitz lowered his hand from her hair to her cheek, unable to stay away from caressing its softness. “It’s just makes each moment that much sweeter.”

He did it again: said something completely perfect that had left her speechless. Fitz must have noticed her frozen state because as she felt the moment take over her, he managed to snap her out of it. “Come on.” Fitz started rising from the lounge chair and reached for her forearms. “Come on! Come dance with me!”

Jemma’s thumb ran back and forth on the inside of Fitz’s wrist, but she didn’t move from her seated position. “Or—we could continue making out.”

“Oh, we will.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her, dragging her up to him. Once standing, Fitz only had to led her five or six feet to the edge of the dance floor adjacent to the beach. He snuck his arm around the small of Jemma’s back, closing the distance between them, and intertwined their fingers with his free hand.

Jemma gaped at him as he took her in his arms and started to sway to the music. She gave his hand a squeeze and rested her other arm on his shoulder. “Leo Fitz—dancer. Who knew?”

“Oh, Jemma Simmons. You’ll find I have a lot of romantic surprises up my sleeve.”

“Ugh, Fitz!” Jemma rolled her head back, her hair falling further down her back. “Are you still on your romantic gesture pursuit?”

“Jemma, I honestly wanted to dance with you. As you said—the night is perfect. The wind is softly blowing in your hair, the music is slow and beautiful, how could I not ask you to dance?”

Pulling herself into his shoulder was all Jemma could to not to burst out laughing. One she composed herself, she rested her forehead against his and turned slightly to kiss his cheek. “Do you think we’ll ever stop this friendly competition we have with each other?”

“I hope not,” Fitz declared breathlessly. “It only makes us the best.”

“Yeah…” With that Jemma captured his lips again, pulling him closer. Fitz mirrored her actions, encircling the small of her back. He met her lips once, twice with more force each time, before sinking into their passion.


	4. Chapter 4

Laughter filled the hotel room. Bedsheets ruffled around Jemma’s bent knee as it rose in her giggle fit.

“You did not.” 

Fitz’s gaze filled with enchantment as he watched the woman he loved, bare skinned and sun kissed with hair waver than ever, become entranced in his childhood story. “Yes, I did. I had no choice! Those stupid boys made it their life mission to literally knock down every flying contraption I ever managed to fly in the air—so one day, I hid water balloons into my newest invention, flew it over their heads during lunch break, and directed it to drench them before science lab.” 

“And they weren’t allowed to change for class?” 

“No!” Fitz retreated in offense. “Of course not. They had to attend class soaked from head to toe. The teachers knew they got what they deserved!”

“Revenge of the nerd!” Jemma flung her foot in the air, revealing more of her bare skin, which didn’t go unnoticed by Fitz. “I love it!”

“They never knocked down one of my inventions again.” 

Jemma turned to him, glowing.”I should hope not!” His gaze fell on her collar bone and he couldn’t resist running his finger along its curve. 

The couple fell quiet as Fitz traced her form. In an all too rare moment, Jemma caught the love in his eyes as he soaked her in. While her heartbeat sped at his intensity, she felt her body relax and sink into his touch—her raised leg drifting down to the mattress. 

If she didn’t do something to interrupt the moment soon, she knew their midnight confession time—which they’d naturally arrived at, and which she was thoroughly enjoying—would organically turn into something else.

She shook her head on the pillow. “Why didn’t you tell me that story? We could have had so much fun with our D.W.A.R.F.s!”

“Oh, oh!” Fitz kept his enthusiasm. “There’s still time. There is still time.” Jemma smiled widely at him, but it soon faded as he brought his palm to her cheek and she basked in his touch. “Your turn. When did you use your genius for your rebellious ways?—” Jemma started to protest, but Fitz insisted, “Which I know you have, so don’t even try to deny it, Jemma Simmons.” 

“Hey,” Jemma warned, raising her index finger. “I have two brothers. My genius is the only thing I had to use against both of them.” 

Fitz sniggered and adjusted his position beside Jemma, realizing for the first time his usual paranoia about making sure the sheets covered certain places he felt insecure about fell away. “What did you do?” 

“They were babysitting me one afternoon because ‘supposedly’ older brothers are more responsible and they refused to make me what I wanted for lunch—even though it was easy and all the ingredients were in the fridge—so, I snuck their favorite food into my room and altered it to look like it was covered in mold.” 

“Ooh!” Fitz responded with enthusiasm, his eyes widening. “I bet John and James hated that!”

“They screamed.” Jemma nodded, boosting. “I had never heard them scream like that in my entire life—before or since.”

“Yeah…” Fitz found her shoulder; his thumb absentmindedly stroking its curve. “John isn’t much of a screamer.” 

Jemma smiled sweetly. “No…but then again, neither are you, and I’ve heard you scream more than a few times.”

Lost in thought, Fitz didn’t notice his peaceful expression fade. While Jemma thought of the times she’d scared Fitz on purpose so they’d have a good laugh afterward, Fitz head echoed with his screams for her she’d never hear.

At his change of expression, Jemma brought her palm to his cheek. “Fitz? What is it?” 

“Nothing,” he lied, determined not to ruin the moment. He leaned in to brush his lips against hers.

“Fitz.” She stroked his facial hair, “Tell me.” 

It took several moments for his gaze to settle on her. Once again noting its intensity, her breath instinctively caught. 

Fitz took a deep breath, unable to deny her anything, he confessed. “I screamed out in agony when you were missing.” The sheets couldn’t cover his vulnerability now even if he wanted them to. He turned further into her, his eyes deep with intensity. “I screamed for you, Jemma.”

Jemma’s lip trembled and her eyes filled with tears. She cradled his head between her hands. “Talking to you is the only thing that kept me sane when I was there. The only thing. Nothing else.” She hoped he knew she included Will in her confession, but she wouldn’t dare speak his name—not here. “Whether I recorded those conversations or not—talking to you was the only time I felt clear—calm—like I might actually find my way back to you. I need you to know that.” 

Her words triggered a conversation he once had with the Jemma he created inside his own head. He adjusted his position so he lay on his back, unable to to look at her when he said, “I said those exact words to you once.” 

Jemma watched him stare at the ceiling. Her forehead creased. “What?” 

The question hung in the air, silence surrounding it. Other than pulling the sheets up to his chest, Fitz did nothing to indicated that he’d heard her.

“Fitz,” Jemma propped herself on one elbow and towered over him. “What are you talking about? When did you tell me that? And why don’t I remember it? Did you say that while I was gone?” 

The corner of his eye twitched. His fingers curved further around the sheet covering him. A full minute passed (during which he drowned out whatever else she said in attempt to bring him back to her) before he found enough confidence to look Jemma straight in the eye. “I told that to the Jemma I imagined next to me after you left for Hydra.” 

Time seemed to stop. The wind died at that exact moment. The palm trees outside froze. The moon shadows cast from the window stopped wavering. 

Jemma slowly rose from her position on the bed. She held the sheet to her chest as she curved around bent knees. 

Regret tightened Fitz’s chest. He squeezed his eyes shut before following Jemma up to her sitting position. 

Fitz stretched the pads of his fingers to her bare back. She shuttered and moved from his touch before the rest of each finger could follow. 

“Jemma…”

“How could you not tell me that?” Coldness pervaded her voice. For once, Fitz was glad he couldn’t see her expression. 

“I just did.” 

“No.” She looked back at him. Her soft brown color had disappeared from her eyes, leaving only blackness. “No. I told you everything. About the planet. About Will. I shared with you my deeply personal recordings—And I didn't regret it, Fitz—I still don’t. And you kept this from me.” 

Fitz’s lips parted and then closed several times, each with a different starting point he could make, before finally whispering, “We—you and I—haven’t been good at talking about that part of our relationship…and we don’t have to talk about it now or ever, and I didn’t mean to make it a thing, I just…I just wanted you to know I sought comfort and support in talking to you too.” 

Jemma forced her eyes shut. She ran one hand through her hair. “You imagined me next to you?”   
Fitz let out a deep sigh. “Jemma…” 

“All the time?”

“Not—not all the time. Just—I don’t know—when I needed help…It’s ok, Jemma. Everything’s ok and it all lead us here—to our first vacation together, and there’s no where else I want to be.” 

She turned back to him then. Her hair spinning around her as she moved. Fitz noticed a tear stain on her cheek, but didn’t dare to touch it.

“I hate being apart from you,” she whispered, leaning into him. “Hate. It.”

“I know,” he whispered back. Once their temples touched, Fitz reached out to brush away the tear stain on her cheek. “I know you do.” 

While the rested against one another, the moon shadow started to dance on the carpet again and the wind blew through the palm trees once more. 

Still in his arms, Jemma fell back to her pillow, bringing him softly down with her. She tugged him closer, making sure his arm was securely around her. 

She kissed the back of his hand. “You know what, though?” She whispered.

“What?” He whispered back.

“I think we’ve proven—we’re never without each other.” Jemma pressed whatever parts of her body that weren’t touching Fitz back against him. He curved around her. “Not really.”


	5. Chapter 5

“I haven’t had a night anywhere close to tonight since my parents took me out for dinner for the first parent’s weekend at the Academy.” Jemma’s kicked her flip-flops off, watching the fly a few feet across the hotel room before landing. “This whole day actually—” she turned to Fitz and wrapped her hands around his neck, “Has just been so perfect.” 

Fitz extended his neck down for a kiss. “More like this whole trip has been perfect.” He captured her lips again. “I might have to re-think this whole ‘We’re cursed. Cosmos is against us thing..’”

Jemma gasped. Beaming, she replied, “Really?”

Unamused, he retorted, “Crazier things have happened.” 

“What—us having an uninterrupted, perfect, romantic day together or you letting go of your whole ‘We’re cursed,’ thing?”

Fitz straightened his posture and pulled back from Jemma. “You know, you held on to that way longer than I did. I said it one time.”

Jemma laughed as she tugged him closer. “You said it twice…I only knew to prove you wrong the second time.”

He nodded his head once, reached his arms around her waist, and tucked his chin. “Must you always be right?” 

“Hmmm,” Jemma kissed him deeply in thanks. “The sooner you accept that the happier you’ll be.” 

Still recovering from their last kiss, his nose brushed across her cheek as he breathed her in. “You are a wise woman,” he said on the exhale. 

“I’m learning,” Jemma whispered, leaning her forehead in to touch his.

“That is also a wise thing to say.” He managed to finish his sentence before scooping her up again. Their kisses became deeper and deeper with each step they took towards the bed.

When Fitz’s fingers curved around the tiny zipper on Jemma’s dress, she pulled back. “Wait. I have a better idea.” 

As Jemma turned from him (presumably to show off her idea), he remarked on the obvious. “A better idea than sex?” 

A pillow hit him in the face as an answer to his question. An “Ugh, Fitz!” soon followed. Jemma reached around for another pillow before he managed to posses one.  
Shrieks and laughter soon filled the hotel room as the Fitzsimmons pillow fight of 2016 commenced. Twenty minutes passed before pillow seams finally broke and feathers showered over them. 

It was when Jemma gazed up in awe at the snowflake-like feathers above her that Fitz finally captured her. As he reached around her shoulders, the back of her head rested in his elbow. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy.”

“Yeah, well,” she lifted her shoulders, causing his arm to raise. “Crazier things have happened,” she remarked before closing whatever distance was left between them.


	6. Chapter 6

Stars sparkled above Fitz while his feet sunk into the cooled down sand with each step. Too focused on Jemma’s figure ahead of him, he didn’t bother the beautiful clear sky.

“‘I’m down at the beach,’” he announced himself by reading the note she left on his bedside. “‘If you happen to wake up.’”

The soft breeze danced in her hair, pulling it back towards him. She didn’t turn at the sound of his voice though, and waited until he sat beside her to lean her shoulder against his.

“You know,” Fitz played with the note in between his fingers. “I woke the moment I didn’t feel you next to me.”

Still silent, Jemma reached for his elbow and ran her arm through it. Fitz glanced down at her expression, surprised to find an unusual mixture of peace and sadness in it. He eyes couldn’t help capturing her emotions and reflecting them back in them.

“You had another nightmare, didn’t you?”

Jemma took a beat before she finally spoke, “Yeah.” Fitz somehow could feel her tension within his own body. “I don’t know why this keeps happening. It’s driving me crazy that I can’t make sense of it.”

Fitz inhaled the scent her shampoo before turning to kiss her hair. “I can.”

Wonder filled her eyes when she gazed up at up him. He swore he saw the stars’ twinkle reflected in their brown color. “You can?”

“Not to get all psychological—‘cuz that’s not what we do—but it makes sense to me, after the year you’ve had…Jemma, you’re finally getting a chance to relax. You’re not under any outside pressure or stress. And I know you. You use those things to avoid or push down feelings you don’t want to deal with…I saw you heal right in front of me, Jemma. Slowly but surely you got better and stronger and more confident. I think now…your body is just getting rid of the rest of it. And that’s ok…good even.”

She took a moment to process his words before smirking. “Does it make you happy to know you know me better than I do know myself?” squeezing his arm, she returned her head back to his shoulder and focused back on the small lapping waves. “‘Cuz it makes me happy.”

“Yeah…” Fitz’s fingers found the bare skin between her ankle and knee and began to run over it. “It makes me happy. If ever I’m confused about something, I just have to look at you and everything becomes clear.”

Unable to find a proportional response to his declaration, Jemma leaned in for a kiss. She captured his lips with a fervor, but released them before either of them could lose themselves in it.

“It’s funny…” Jemma started, lying down on the blanket to look at the millions of stars above them. “After all the bad stuff we know exists up there…including that stupid planet, I still find hope and beauty and wonder when I look up at them. When I was away, I’d see you whenever the stars twinkled and it felt better knowing your star was shinning somewhere.”

Jemma’s declaration now left him speechless. He too found the only thing he could do was give her a kiss. Their legs tangled together as he lowered his body over hers.

“Hey, hey!” Jemma patted his shoulder repeatedly until he turned over to follow where her other hand was pointing. “Look, it’s a meteoroid!”

Rolling over, Fitz now mirrored her position on the blanket. “For someone who just said she found hope in the stars, would calling the meteoroid a shooting star be that much of a stretch?”

“Ugh, Fitz,” she placed her hands behind her back and watched the meteoroid fly across the sky.

“Make a wish,” he insisted.

“What? No.”

“Quickly, Jemma! It’s going to disappear!”

“I wish to have no more nightmares.”

“No…no,” Fitz shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Don’t waste a wish on that! Something big…something you want more than anything.”

“We’ll wish together, okay? On three. One, two—Oh, but don’t say your wish out loud!”

“Fitz!”

“Okay. Three.”

They both closed their eyes and wished together. Letting the sounds of paradise fill their silence. When their eyes opened, the meteoroid had disappeared.

It would be two years and three months later, as they were sighing the sale papers for their cottage in Perthshire that they told each other they had shared the same wish that night.


	7. Chapter 7

“We have the entire beach to ourselves,” Jemma exclaimed, giving Fitz’s hand a squeeze. “I can’t believe it. It’s always so crowded.” She gave him a nudge, sending them opposite directions, their clasped hand eventually pulling them back together. “Genius idea, Fitz, to take an midnight stroll.”

“Hmm…” he raised their joined hands to kiss the back of her hand. “I’m full of genius.”

“I know you are.” Admiration filled her gaze as she spoke with sincerity. Fitz noted her response, but did nothing to show it, rather letting her compliment sink deep within him.

The beach turned slightly up ahead. His pride from Jemma’s words now mixed with nerves at the surprise awaiting them around the corner.

“Oh, my…” she released his hands and jogged up ahead, taking in the scene that awaited her. A heart shaped moat lined with candles surrounded a small table for two on the sand. Small tropical flowers topped off the freshly set table, almost as if it was still awaiting its guests. “Wow. Fitz! Look at this! Someone must have had a very romantic evening planned.”

Content to watch Jemma’s delight, he waited for as long as possible to reveal his surprise. “Someone does,” he announced.

Jemma froze. “What?”

“Well, by my count,” He pulled his hand from his pocket to examine his watch. “We have three minutes until your birthday officially arrives…and I thought we could give it the welcoming in it deserves.”

Apart from blinking, she still didn’t move. “This is for us?”

“For you,” he stepped closer. “Yes.”

An incredulous smile replaced her blank expression and she soon laughed off to reveal her seriousness underneath. “No…”

“Yes…” Fitz reached out to her bare shoulders, their faces now inches from each other. “You know, we haven’t celebrated your birthday together in two years—”

“I do know that, Fitz.”

“—There was no way in hell I was going to let its arrival pass without marking the occasion.”

Jemma gaped at him, she lost the ability to do anything else. Words died on her tongue, hair strands blew over her face, and she didn’t notice. All she could do was stare at the man before her, who she was so hopelessly in love with. “I am never spending another birthday without you.”

“Good,” he stated, tracing her curves from her shoulders to her cheeks. “Because I am never spending another birthday without you. Yours or mine, deal?”

Jemma’s “Deal,” barely made it from her lips as he leaned down to capture them. Her palms slid up his back until they put slight pressure on his shoulders, pulling them closer together.

Somehow, during their kiss, a chocolate cake had appeared on the table. Fitz rested his cheek on Jemma’s hair as she turned to once again gape in astonishment.

“What…? How…?”

“I’d thought we’d start with dessert.”  


	8. Chapter 8

Music blasted from the other side of their Seychelles hotel wall.

Jemma turned from lying on her side to her back, causing Fitz’s snuggles to adjust to her new position. His fingers spread across her flat stomach and his nose now inhaled her shoulder rather than the side of her neck.

“Oh, my, god!” She exclaimed in response to the loud music. “Make it stop.”

“I keep imagining what I’d do if I had all my lab tools at my disposal,” Fitz muttered into her shoulder. “I’d invent some silencing tool to shut them up.”

“I’d use Hermione’s Silencing Charm,” Jemma whispered back.

Fitz chuckled. “Good luck with that.”

“Hmm,” she snickered back, then turned to face him. Mere inches apart, both laying on their sides, the couple managed to smile at each other despite the disturbance. “I’d be good at magical spells.”

“I know you would,” he agreed, running a hand down her side, from a shoulder to a leg.

Beer bottles clanked together, cheers riled up, and the music raised in volume.

“Ugh!” Jemma kicked the covers in frustration. She propped herself up on one elbow. “We have to do something! Should we call the front desk?”

“Yeah, and what would we say?” Fitz found a nagging tone. “Hi, um, our neighbors are throwing a party, it’s the middle of the night, and I’m tired but I can’t sleep. Will you please tell them to cut it out?”

“Yes!” She pounded the pillow. “That’s exactly what we should say!” Reaching for the hotel phone, Jemma continued. “This is our romantic vacation. Our time away from the jobs we work hard at and we deserve peace in the middle of the night. This hotel has been very good to us and I’m sure they’d understand that.”

As her case strengthened, his mind began to work at rapid speed. “No, no, Jemma—” He sat up, following her movements, and reached for her extended arm. “Wait.”

“Why?”

“I have a better idea.”

She raised her eyebrows, “You do?”

“Yeah,” his expression, one mixed with pride and excitement, begged her to hear him out. “We out-sing them.”

“What?” Jemma put the phone down. “You want us to sing together? You hate singing!”

“I know,” Fitz shrugged. “But we’re both equally bad singers and you’ve always wanted me to sing for you—”

An incredulous smile broke out on her face. “I have not! Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t even know what you’re talking about—”

“—Second year. At the Academy. We were studying late at night and you suggested that we have some crazy dance-sing party for ten minutes to blow off steam and I wouldn’t join you—”

She blushed at the memory, touched that he kept it with him somewhere in head. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

Fitz lost his defensive energy, dropping his shoulders. “I remember everything about us, Jemma,” he said sweetly. “I remember how much fun you had and me regretting not getting up and singing and dancing with you. I’ll sing with you as a small romantic gesture.”

They looked at each other, tapping into their psychically linked connection. They agreed on a song together thanks to memories and an eyebrow wiggle. As the lyrics of the song came to them, they slid themselves from under the covers, faced the wall, and started singing at the top of their lungs:

_We all live in a yellow submarine_  
_Yellow submarine, yellow submarine_  
_We all live in a yellow submarine_  
_Yellow submarine, yellow submarine_

_And our friends are all on board_  
_Many more of them live next door_  
_And the band begins to play_

_We all live in a yellow submarine_  
_Yellow submarine, yellow submarine…_

By the time Fitz and Jemma reached the second chorus, the party next door had silenced.

**Author's Note:**

> ♥︎ Hope you enjoy! I'd love to hear from you in the comments! You can find these stories--and many, many more on my tumblr page. I go by writeonthrough over there too. Come say hi!


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